


Fake It till You Make It

by ezpzlemon



Series: Killugon Collection [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Leorio fucks stuff up in the background, M/M, New NEW chapter up, New chapter up!, One-Sided Attraction, Secret Crush, Self-Hatred, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezpzlemon/pseuds/ezpzlemon
Summary: Killua stared at him even harder. “Hold on,” he whispered sharply. “Have YOU ever had sex?”“Yeah, totally!”





	1. Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> I meant for this to be a funny oneshot about Gon Freecs: Professional Booty Hunter, but whoops, now it's angsty killugon~
> 
> Also, don't worry about Leorio. He just ends up banned from Vegas

 

“Here it is, boys: Vegaslas, the City of Lights.” 

Gon pressed his nose against the window and gaped at the flashes of neon rushing past them, reduced to colorful streaks by the pace the train sped them along. “You were right, Leo; this is nothing like Yorknew!”

“Please, that overhyped flea market? _This_ is where we make the real money,” Leorio announced.

“I dunno about you, but me and Gon are here to be tourists,” Killua asserted once more, pointedly sticking his nose up in the air. “So just leave us out of whatever you’re planning.”

“Don’t be like that,” Leorio pleaded. “You gotta know I’d split the pot even!”

“Like we care.”

“Come on, _kiddo_ ,” he bit through his fake smile, and Killua bristled at the name, standing up from his chair and balling his hands into fists.

“Hey, _I_ wanna help Leo!” Gon interjected. “What do you want us to do?”

Killua shot him an affronted look and opened his mouth to retort, but Gon met his stare head-on, not one ounce of regret betrayed by his expression. Swallowing his grimace, Killua slowly sat back down and forced his hands to relax. “Yeah, wanna share your grand plan?” he muttered.

“We win… a lot. At cards.”

Killua turned back to Gon and made a face as if to say, _Can you believe this dumbass?—_ but Gon only cocked his head quizzically, not making the mental connection. Groaning dramatically at his fate as the group’s permanent explanation-guru, Killua continued, “By cheating. He wants us to cheat.”

“Oh, but how?” Gon asked, and Leorio jumped at the second chance to make his pitch.

“You’ve got that crazy eyesight! Remember the butler guy throwing that coin around everywhere and how you kept track of it? This isn’t that different; what you gotta do is count cards, which’ll let you figure out the dealer’s hand,” he eagerly appealed, and Killua’s jaw dropped at the false equivalency in play. Gon, on the other hand, was hanging on every word.

“Eh… But I’m not too good at math…”

“Can you count to fifty-two?”

“Yeah…?”

“That’s all there is to it!”

“Wrong again,” Killua sneered. “Even if Gon can pull it off, do you really think there aren’t safety measures for that old cheat? They’ve got regenerating card decks, now, so they never run out of any one card. Get it, old man?”

“Still only nineteen,” he muttered under his breath. “But a-anyways, that doesn't change my ‘grand plan’ for _you_ , you sarcastic git!”

“Oh?”

Leorio fixed him with a smug look. “You're a transmuter, right? So you use Hisoka's _texture_ _surprise_ to change the cards you're dealt into a winning hand every time!”

Killua slammed his palm against his forehead. “Jesus, the things I have to deal with… Look, just because I'm also a transmuter, doesn't mean I can use other people's signature moves at the drop of a hat. Do you have any idea how much that pedo must’ve practiced to pull that stuff off?”

“Um…”

“A lot. The answer is a lot. It would take me _months_ to do it as fast as he does.”

“Tch,” Leorio growled as the train lurched to a stop. “Fuckin’ brat—!”

“ _/PLEASE EXIT COMPARTMENT AT YOUR DESIGNATED OUTLET. THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING POP-CHOP EXPRESS FOR YOUR TRAVEL NEEDS/_ ”

“Come on, Gon. Let's go check out the hotel,” Killua ordered casually as he strolled off the train.

“Alright! Um, sorry about your plan, Leo. We can try something else, later,” Gon added, hopping off behind him. Leorio waved him off, scrubbing vigorously at his bangs in frustration.

“I can show you all the best places! I know the coolest prank-call numbers, the biggest waterslides, the…” Killua paused at the realization there was no one beside him. He turned around and found Gon’s green figure frozen in the middle of the path, totally dumbstruck by the blinky smorgasbord of media around them. It was more than just the pervasive rainbow of casino logos; there were a million distinct tunes hidden in the din, a menagerie of different smells to assault his sensitive nose.

“Gon,” Killua called, but the boy didn't respond, seemingly unaware of the people bustling past him. Killua glanced over his shoulder, braced himself, and grabbed Gon’s wrist to lead him out of the crowd’s way.

“Oh, sorry,” he sheepishly apologized. Killua grunted his acceptance, and Gon suddenly slid his wrist out of Killua's grasp so to better hold his hand.

“W-wait, um—” Killua stammered, but Gon just smiled brightly and pulled him along.

The hotel was a huge complex that hosted no less than five casinos off the opening plaza, which was a roofless, park-like arena—having grass, benches, and artfully-placed palm trees—all leading up to the two gigantic windows that walled off the lobby. Here, they could finally get a good view beyond the city’s horizon, and Gon stared up in wonder at the orangish glow of light pollution tarnishing the night sky.

Killua waved over a vender and ordered them two smoothies. “What do you wanna do first? Jump on the beds? Swim in the pool?”

“Let's wait here for Leorio,” Gon said instead, pointing to a pair of lawn-variety armchairs facing the hotel’s front doors. He let go of his friend’s hand as he plopped himself down; Killua's face felt hot.

“…Hey, Killua?”

“What?”

“How can you be so calm about this place? It's amazing!”

“I've been here before,” Killua said quietly.

“For wh—Leorio!” he suddenly shouted. Leorio gave a half-hearted wave as he walked past them toward the lobby’s front door, immediately sticking his hand back in his coat pocket.

“You guys can do whatever,” he muttered. “I need a drink.” Killua stuck his tongue out at him when he turned his back.

“What's wrong with him?” Gon asked once the man was out of earshot.

“His get-rich-quick scheme didn't work out, and now he's gonna get drunk 'cause he can't deal with it,” Killua chided reproachfully. “He’ll probably order a few hookers, too.”

“Hookers? You mean… oooooh.”

“Yeah. Disgusting, right?”

“Well, I dunno. Girls can be pretty nice so long as they’re in a good mood, but everybody’s that way, I think. Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

Vietnam-style flashbacks of his overbearing mother raced through his war-battered mind. “No, no I have not.”

“That’s too bad; they’re loads of fun!” Gon assured.

Killua choked a little on his drink. “ _You’ve_ had a girlfriend?”

“Yup. Those ladies who made port on my island, remember? And that’s how I was so good with Palm?”

“Oh,” he exhaled, settling down. “That hardly counts.”

“Well, it’s more than you can say,” Gon quipped, sucking loudly at his cup’s straw. “I can help you find a girlfriend, if you want.”

Killua smirked and tossed him a sidelong glance from under his lashes. “Oh yeah? And how exactly would you help?”

“I could, um, you know… advise you.”

“Mmmhmmm. What’s the perfect date, then?”

“…Take her to dinner. Wait—show up to dinner with a _rose_. And tell the girl it reminded you of her.”

“Pfffft,” Killua snorted. “That’s so cheesy.”

“Girls like that kinda junk! Basically, all you have to do is show that you care how they’re feeling and give it some romantic flair. Trust me; I know about this stuff.” Gon smacked his lips cheekily and took another obnoxious slurp.

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “Don’t act so high and mighty, like you’re some kind of ladykiller. You’re twelve, same as me! So it’s not like you’ve got such a ~treasure-trove~ of experience, alright? And I don’t care how many old ladies you helped cross the street back home.”

“But—”

“No buts!”

Gon heaved a deep sigh but left the matter alone. They were quiet for a while as they watched the traffic flit by on the boulevard below.

“…When will Leorio be back?”

“As soon as he gets robbed or gets laid. Whichever comes first.”

Right on cue, Leorio staggered out of the lobby with a girl on each arm, half-empty champagne bottle in each hand, obviously a few too many drinks in the hole. When his eyes fell on his fellow Hunters, he stopped in his tracks to blink slowly at them, but just as it seemed the stupid-train had finally pulled into station, one of the girls whispered something in his ear, and a sleazy grin broke out on his buzzed-up face. With a boisterous sniff, Leorio whirled around and marched back inside, dragging his giggly entourage along for the ride.

“Honestly,” Killua grumbled. “Adults are so dumb. What’s so great about sex, anyways?”

“Well, it feels really good if you know what you’re doing,” Gon chirped.

“That’s what they all… say…” he trailed off, confidence going askew. “Wait, what?”

Gon got a sly look on his face, eyebrows cocked mischievously, a little smirk playing on his lips. “And if you’re _really_ good, you can make the girl feel even better, which is a whole other sort of nice feeling.”

Killua stared at him even harder. “Hold on,” he whispered sharply. “Have _you_ ever had sex?”

“Yeah, totally!”

“Dick in vagina? _That_ sex?”

“Is there any other kind…?”

“Dude!”

“Yeah?”

“What the fuck!”

Gon snickered impishly. “I already told you, Killua: those ladies had a thing for young men, and I happened to be the only kid around.”

“But those were just dates!”

“ _Sexy_ dates.”

“I—I just—” Killua stammered, further unbalanced by Gon’s seamless composure. “Does your Aunt know?”

“Well, she knew about the dates… huh. I guess I never went into much detail.”

Killua leaned back into the chair (having literally been on the edge of his seat) and turned his gaze back across the hotel plaza. Leorio was making a scene inside—swinging a tennis racket wildly at a hoard of policemen—but the boy hardly noticed. “That’s messed up. And I’m not even talking normal creepy, here—hell, _I’m_ normal creepy. But this? This is _Hisoka_ creepy, alright?”

Gon gave the obligatory shudder, yet the resolve did not drain from his eyes. “Hey, who said you were the one who gets to decide what’s weird? After all, _you_ were killing people while you were still in the womb. That’s not everyday creepy, Mr. Normal-Guy-McGee; that’s _advanced_ creepy, right there.”

Leorio burst through one of the windows with a receptionist braced under his forearm, seemingly as a hostage. “Sex is totally different, man. You just don’t mess with that.”

The police formed an armored brigade that cut off their view of the commotion. “Why? What makes sex so special? It’s nice for everyone involved! Murder, now that’s unpleasant all the way around.”

The sound of another window breaking. “ _It makes babies_. That’s a big deal, I think you can agree.”

The familiar pop of gunfire. “I guess…”

Leorio appeared again, somehow having climbed up on the hotel roof. “And I thought you didn’t care about the murder stuff.”

“Yeah, you're right; I don’t. I just wanted to prove my point. Sorry,” Gon offered sincerely, and Killua could see it too clearly, the pure emotion shining on his earnest face. He swallowed stiffly and tried to breathe, his response stuck in his throat. To call Gon an open book would be inaccurate, since understanding a book at least requires some literacy on the part of the reader; his was a cornucopia of thought, overflowing and instantly recognizable—literally springing out at anyone willing to look. Staring him dead-on like this was always a deer-in-the-headlights kind of feeling, a seizure-like trance that never failed to take him by utter surprise. It was an excruciating beauty; Killua averted his eyes.

“…So why did you do it?”

“Well, they asked me real’ nice, and I already knew what it was from some other sailors, so I thought, why not? It'll be another experience under my belt! That's what Miss Mito always says about trying new things, anyways.”

“And you liked it?”

“Oh, for sure,” Gon affirmed, nodding emphatically. “It felt great on my end, and I liked that they liked it, too. They were real’ thankful, afterwards—said that nobody knows true loneliness until they’ve spent a few months at sea. Then they bought me a milkshake for the trouble!”

His mouth felt too dry, but he couldn't make any spit. “Really? That's what you gave your virginity to? Some lonely fucking hags?”

“Killua,” Gon started, reaching out to clasp him on the shoulder. He was always saying his name so weirdly, with such an odd cadence to the normal intonation. There was no way for Killua to _not_ hear his name when it was spoken in that voice, to ignore it or forget what was said; the hand on his shoulder felt like a brand burning through his shirt. “If I'm not upset, then why should you be?”

“Whatever,” Killua muttered, pushing the hand away. His bitterness removed him even further from the situation, like an island of hurt no one understood.

“Don't be mad! It doesn't change anything, after all. This whole time, I haven't been a virgin, and we still got along just fine. Us together, that means so much more than anything in the past,” Gon insisted. His eyes were too hazel.

“Hopefully you didn't get the clap,” Killua mumbled.

“The what?”

“An STD, moron. Sexually Transmitted Disease.”

“Eh…?” Gon wondered aloud, looking down at himself. “I don't feel sick. And that was a long time ago, anyways.”

“Well, _I_ feel sick. Your gross story made me sick. Good job.”

“I really don't see what's the big deal,” he sighed. “Sex is amazing; you should try it sometime! It's not that different from touching yourself.”

Killua froze in his chair.

“…You know what I mean, right? When you're kind of horny, start thinking of something dirty—someone you like, maybe—and reach down—”

He needed Gon to stop looking at him. A distraction. Anything.

“Killua?”

He knew that he was safe. There was no way Gon could know. But still…

“Oh, my gosh. Have you never even touched yourself before? Is that even possible?”

“ _Of course I have,_ ” Killua hissed through his teeth. “Would you stop talking about it _so fucking loud?”_

The other boy laughed cheerfully at his embarrassment, and Killua’s gut churned with his guilt. It wasn't like he was lying. Gon hadn’t asked, so it was fine. But still…

He was getting away with something that he shouldn’t be.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Miss Mito’s a bit of a prude, too, but I always assumed that was 'cause she’s a lady.” Gon grinned, showing off all his pearly whites. Killua looked down and said nothing.

“Heeeeey. Don't zone out just yet. We have to wait for Leo.”

“I can zone out while I'm waiting, can't I?”

“But then who'll I talk to?”

 _You could go make friends with someone new,_ Killua considered saying. _You're good at that._

“Hah… Fine, then. My company is too amazing; I get it,” Killua said instead.

“It really is! There's no one else I'd rather be with!”

Again, his heart throbbed painfully. Gon was always taking things too far, always stepping over all the lines. What was Killua supposed to say to something like that? How was he supposed to feel?

He felt creepy. Not the normal kind, either. _Advanced_ creepy.

“…You know, this is the part where you might say, _Why, thank you, Gon! I feel the same!”_

“You wish,” Killua laughed. “You wish.”


	2. Thunder

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Leorio slurred as he flopped onto the hotel bed, his voice cracking into an odd, pitchy baritone on the _fuck_. “Th-that… was some… whoopsy-d— _hiccup—_ daisy…”

Killua took it upon himself to swipe the wallet out of the man's pants pocket and open it, ignoring Leorio’s muffled sound of protest. “Yup, it's empty,” Killua confirmed to Gon. “He spent it all on bribes.”

“I know, right? Fuckin’ bullshit!” Leorio exclaimed. “There was, like, four million in there, and I _still_ have only a day to get out of town! Fuckin’ cops don't know how to treat a good bribe…”

Killua tossed the wallet on his chest, critically regarding the man’s clumsy scramble to pick it up.

“…Should we, um, do something?”

“No,” Killua immediately replied. “He just has to sleep it off, now. And besides, suffocating on his own vomit is the only way he'll learn.”

“Heyyyyy, I'm not gonna… puke… Oh, God… _BLEARGH,_ ” Leorio puked.

Gon hurried to his side and patted his back awkwardly through the dry heaves. “There, there… Killua, can you get some towels, or something?”

“Nope,” he denied once again. “Leave it for housekeeping.”

“But it's all over the bed!”

“ _His_ bed,” Killua clarified. “You and I will be sleeping over there, by the door.”

“Killuaaaa,” Gon whined. “It's too strong of a smell; I'll never be able to fall asleep with this in the room.”

“…Goddamnit, Gon,” Killua cursed to himself. He stormed into the bathroom and grabbed some fluffy, white towels. “Why are you always like this? He’s the reason we can't do any of the fun stuff we planned! All because he was stupid and got too drunk!”

“So what?” Gon retorted as he caught the towels mid-air. “We still have to help him! Because that's what friends do.”

“Friend. Right. Everyone is Gon Freecs’ friend. So they don't have to deal with the consequences of their actions.”

“Killua…”

“Some people are bad people, you know? And there's no changing them no matter what happens, no matter how nice you are. You really shouldn't be buddy-buddy with those types.” Killua looked up helplessly at the plaster of the ceiling. “You don't know like I do… how messed up people can be. They don't deserve your patience.”

He chanced a glance at Gon, and just as he feared, his gaze was fierce, cutting through his layered meaning with the keen efficacy of a scalding blade. Gon simply knew him too well.

“Killua. You're my friend, and that's _my_ decision. It's not a matter of ‘deserving’ or not; that's just the way it is. My friends are the people I like to spend time with, and guess what: you're at the top of that list. So don’t talk about yourself in such a negative way; I won’t allow people to speak so poorly of you.”

Killua turned around, closed his eyes, and dialed the hotel attendants to get another room.

Later that night, around 4 AM, all was quiet but for Leorio’s snoring and the occasional patter of footsteps in the hall outside their room. Gon was eagle-spread on his mattress, a spindly thread of drool leaking out his open mouth, blankets kicked to end of the bed, his tank top riding up to reveal the tan abdomen beneath.

Killua locked himself in the bathroom and leaned back against the door. He held the hand that Gon had held in front of his face, turning it slowly so to see it at all angles, and a cold bead of sweat slid down the back of his neck. Gritting his teeth, Killua lowered the shaky hand down to his waistline, reached inside his underwear, and has never hated himself so much before.


	3. The Rain that Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wasn't planning on writing another chapter for this, but you guys keep writing me such nice reviews that tell me to do more, so I can't help but want to deliver. So I guess I'll mark the story as incomplete in case I get any more ideas.
> 
> Written largely to [this](https://youtu.be/53N99Nim6WE). I recommend listening to it to get the intended mood of the story
> 
> (also, because I refuse to have Alluka refer to Killua as "brother" in direct speech, she calls him "Killu," instead. Suck it, Illumi)

Alluka occupied all of his time and all of his thoughts. The hours turned to days, the days to weeks, the weeks to months. Here lies an oasis in the trackless universe of sand, the solace found in a traveler’s emptiness, a state of mind that is its own place and time. Here lies Killua Zoldyck. 

Like tumbleweed, they picked up and moved wherever the fickle wind blew. No roots or destination to aim their flight, they let themselves be swept up by the most dangerous kind of freedom, the carnivorous wanderlust that tends to erode a man’s character, leaving behind a face rubbed blank to sight and numb to touch—eaten alive. But Killua was familiar with living dangerously, and he bore it as he bore all things: stiff-lipped and blue-eyed.

Hours, days, weeks, months. Every step got easier with the next. They stood at no one’s mercy but their own. 

“Look at me!” his sister called down from a ways up a tree, the tallest one they could find in the local oak metropolis. He waited at its base with arms tense at his sides, ready to shoot out and catch her at a moment’s notice. A few ominous snaps later, he made good on his caution and plucked her from the air. 

“You’re so strong,” she exclaimed, stars in her eyes. “My brother's the strongest!”

“Damn straight,” Killua agreed as he moved to set her down. 

“I think I’ll want a boyfriend just like you.”

He paused just short of letting her go, his hands still hooked under her armpits and her forearms balanced on his own. “Eh?”

“Someone who can carry me so fast, for so long,” she explained. “And who loves me so, so much!”

“Yeah, well, no one’s as great as me,” Killua dismissed. “So don’t even bother thinking about boys. Trust me; they’re not worth it.”

“But… why not?”

He undid his progress in putting her down, hoisting her back up to his shoulders in one swift movement and smirking slightly at her surprised squeal. “‘Cause nobody’s good enough for you, chicky.”

“That’s okay,” Alluka argued, resting her chin atop his head. “It doesn’t always have to be equal.”

Killua knew what she meant. “That’s because Something’s just too nice. Isn’t that right?”

“Ahhhh,” Something happily sighed.

“So you should never, ever settle for some loser. Got it?”

“Hmph,” Alluka pouted.

“So let’s go!” he whooped as he took off at one of his higher speeds, the warm summer air battering against his ears. Beneath the roaring wind, he could faintly hear Alluka’s gasping screams of laughter, and he made a few dizzying loops around the forest before stopping short of their motel building. Fisting tightly at his shirt, she leaned further out in front of him so that her upper half was draped almost entirely over his left shoulder.

“A… again…” she panted gleefully, hopelessly out of breath. After a few more cyan sprints, Killua finally set her free, smiling down at her windswept castle of hair.

“Killu,” Alluka murmured as they lay in bed, her tender frame tucked in against his side.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“Ah,” he hummed. “Me? No.”

“Why not?”

“Because nobody’s good enough for me, obviously.”

“Oh… why not?”

“Tch,” he grunted. “I’ve just never felt that way about a girl. Don’t ask why not.”

“But wouldn’t it be fun to have someone like that?”

 _Maybe_ , Killua thought.

“Only sometimes,” he said, hyper-aware of the impact of his voice on the dead silence of the room. “It’s not something you do for the fun; you do it ‘cause you… have to, in a way. It’s too hard to stop yourself.”

“Why?”

“Nobody knows,” he admitted.

“But Killua knows,” Something insisted, the wide blackness of her eyes gleaming in the yellow light of the lamp. “Killua is always knowing.”

He let the smile touch his face, and he let it reach his eyes. “Only sometimes.”

“…Pet my head.”

“Of course,” he acquiesced, threading his fingers through her tousled hair to work out all the knots.

“…Hey, Killu?” Alluka asked.

“Mmhmm?”

“What’s sex like?”

“ _Khck_ — _”_ Killua abruptly hacked, almost like the wind was knocked out of him. “How do you even know about stuff like that?”

“Something told me.”

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “W-well. Um.”

Rain began to beat down against the window, a host of percussive chords that came together in the barest specter of melody, filling up the back of his mind with its thoughtless oblivion. It occurred to Killua that his shoes were still outside; Alluka had decided they were too dusty to track in on the motel carpet, so he’d left them at the door. Perhaps they’d be washed by the time the storm ran through.

He closed his eyes and let the words come.

“It, um, feels really good if you know what you’re doing.”

Alluka stared eagerly up at him, waiting for more details. Now there was a distant roll of thunder.

“And… and if you’re _really_ good, you can make the girl feel even better, which is a whole other sort of… nice feeling.”

“Have _you_ ever had sex?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he laughed. In all pain there lies a sweetness if you carry it long enough—the masochism of self-reflection, as if to look yourself straight-on could only result in the Buddhist suicide. “I don’t think it would agree very well with me; I’m not cut out for that kind of stuff. ‘Sides, kids like you and me aren’t supposed be having sex in the first place. It’s wrong.”

“How come?”

Some things were simply too bright for scrutiny.

“It,” Killua started, hung up on the lump in his throat. After swallowing, he tried again. “It makes babies. That’s a big deal, I think you can agree. We have to pay some respect.”

“I don’t get it…”

“That’s okay,” he whispered. “Some people don’t. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Can I have sex, someday?” Alluka asked.

_Please don’t talk about that._

“No way,” he refused. “You’re way too good for all the creeps who would think that way about you.”

“But what if _I_ think of them?”

“You won’t,” Killua told her. “Trust me.”

“…Pet my head,” Something instructed.

“Sure thing.”

And by the time dawn came, the rain had finally stopped. Alluka lay quietly in bed, her chest rising and falling as full-bodied and reliable as the circle of life itself. Killua looked out the window at the overcast morning sky—a shapeless, lonely sheet of grey—and wondered if Gon was having a rainy day, too. If he could hear the same steady pitter-patter of water dripping off branches, gutters, powerlines, and rafters, accumulating puddles even in absence of the storm. If he ever looked out windows and imagined that he saw Killua down the road ahead, too far away to ever truly be sure, peeking over the top of the hill.

Killua examined his waterlogged shoes and wondered, not for the first time, if he had become a good person.


End file.
